


A Case of Mistaken Meta Identity

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: The Dresden Files - All Media Types, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Community: dresdenficathon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2588522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione bursts into Harry's office. Sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Case of Mistaken Meta Identity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rusting_roses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusting_roses/gifts).



> Originally a pinch hit for the Dresden Ficathon 2011.

Harry was sitting in office making notes on his latest case--creaky door, not ghost; overweight cat, not ghost--when his office door flew open and a woman with bushy brown hair came barreling in, a stick pointed towards Harry in her right hand.

"Can I--"

"Harry! Thank Merlin!" She had a terrible, fake British accent.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Do I know you?"

"It's me, Harry. Hermione." She glanced over her shoulder and waved her right arm towards the open door. She caught her coat on the doorknob, and it slammed shut. "We have to set up defenses. Umbridge is headed this way."

"Umbridge?" The weirdness clicked, and Harry dropped his head into his hands. "Okay...Hermione..." he started slowly, "I think you might be confused."

"I'm not confused! I'm concerned! Harry, Umbridge is headed this way."

"I'm Harry Dresden," Harry said, trying to get Hermione to meet his eyes. She kept glancing at the corners of the office, at the door, and then up at the ceiling as if an air attack from the ceiling fan was imminent. "Hermione," he said, and her eyes snapped to his.

"Harry, we have to--"

"Defenses, yeah," Harry said. "I got that, but you've got the wrong Harry."

"What are you talking about? You're--"

"Harry Dresden, wizard for hire in the greater Chicago area. Real person." He watched her for some sign of understanding. Her eyes got wider, and she started pacing. "Harry Potter isn't real," he added when she didn't say anything.

"Don't be foolish, Harry! You're as real as I am--and as Umbridge is! She's headed this way."

"Yeah, I don't think she is." Harry reached into his desk and pulled out a well-worn copy of _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_. "This look familiar?"

"There's no time to read right now. We have to--" Harry's office door flew open, and Hermione spun towards it, stick out. It came to an end an inch before Murphy's nose, who did not look amused.

"One of yours?" Harry asked.

"Don't start," Murphy replied. She eyed the stick at the end of her nose. "Drop it," she told Hermione.

"As long as there is breath in my--"

Murphy yanked the stick from her hand and snapped it in half.

"My wand!"

"A dead twig from the park," Murphy responded.

"She's broken my wand, Harry! Run! I'll protect you!" Hermione took an awkward fighting stance and started shuffling around Murphy in a slow-motion, sluggish way.

"Am I supposed to get this?" Murphy asked Harry as she waved a hand towards the woman. She was only giving Hermione half her attention, and Dresden recognized her lack of concern. Enough time as a cop and particularly a cop around him had left her with a very clear understanding of when to be worried by a suspect's behavior and when to stop caring.

Harry held up the book so Murphy could see it. "Another one," he said. "Thinks she's Hermione."

"And I’m an evil-doer from that thing?" Murphy asked as she stepped to one side so Hermione didn't step on her toes. "Which one? The two-faced guy? The werewolf?"

"He ended up being a good guy," Harry said. "You're Umbridge."

Murphy raised her eyebrows when Harry didn't elaborate. "I haven't read that one, Dresden. I'm too busy chasing people waving sticks to your office."

"She's the bad guy--lady--in book five," Harry explained. "She looks--" He cut off as he considered Murphy's blonde hair done in ringlets, her turned-up nose, and the fact that he'd never, ever seen her wear pink. "Bad person," he adjusted. "Looks kind of similar to you if you squint right."

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked, going absolutely still as she came back to herself and realized that he and Murphy were talking amongst themselves. "Harry, why haven't you run?"

"Harry Dresden," Harry said again. "Not Potter. And that's Murphy, not Umbridge, and you are..."

"I am Hermione Granger! I am the cleverest witch in my class!"

"You are an unknown person of indeterminate origin," Murphy told her, edging to her right side, slowly but surely putting herself between the woman and Dresden. "You came into the police station to report seeing a three-headed dog near DePaul campus, and you had an episode or something. I chased you here.”

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"Murph," Harry said before Murphy could start talking again. "Did you say a three-headed dog?"

"Yes," Murphy said, her tone asking for Dresden's point.

"Was anything riding the dog?"

Murphy didn’t even take a second to seem surprised at the question They’d worked together for too long. “She said it was surrounded by shadows.” She did pause when Harry twitched. “I’m guessing it wasn’t a shadow.”

“Dream imp,” Harry said. “Probably spotted her and decided to have some fun, so it dropped a dream bomb in her head to go off whenever it would be funniest to watch.”

“Watch?”

“They get to watch what the bomb does. It basically puts a person into a waking dream sort of thing, where they don’t know they’re doing something really stupid.”

Murphy thought for a second, watching Hermione as she stood completely still. “She all right?”

“Probably. Imps aren’t harmful, just kind of dicks.”

Murphy poked Hermione in the shoulder, and she rocked back and forth slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. She’ll snap out of it in a few minutes and not even know why she’s here.”

“Oh, that sounds delightful.” Murphy looked away from Hermione and over to Harry, a question furrowing her brow. “What did you mean when you said it was another one?”

“Huh?”

“You said it was another one. You held up the book.”

Harry looked down at the book. “Oh! That! Yeah, I get people sometimes who think I’m Harry Potter.”

“What?”

“People who get _way_ into it,” Harry explained. “They see my door, think I’ve changed my name or something, and they show up and try to tell me I’m Harry Potter.”

“What.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know, Murph. I don’t ask them to come by, and I don’t hold a q-and-a or anything. They just show up sometimes, and I remind them that the books are fiction, and then they go home.”

“Home or to a home?”

“I don’t check.”

Murphy rolled her eyes. “Great.”

“I check them for spells, if it helps.”

“I’m not sure—“

“Where am I?” Hermione asked. She blinked a few times and looked around the office in a daze, jumping back when she saw Murphy and how close she was standing. “What just—“

“You’re safe,” Murphy said, her tone at a level of softness Harry was certain had never been aimed at him. “You had a bad response to a stressful situation, but you didn’t hurt anyone, and you didn’t hurt yourself.”

“Oh. Um. Okay.”

“What’s your name?” Murphy asked.

“Helen.”

“All right, Helen. You remember me?”

Helen nodded very slowly. “You’re the Lieutenant.”

“Murphy, yeah. You were telling me about a dog.”

“A three-headed dog…” Helen shook her head. “That can’t be right.”

“It’s right,” Murphy told her. “Come on, I’ll explain it to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Helen said. She let Murphy lead her out of the office.

“Dresden?”

“Owe you a beer,” Harry replied before Murphy could say anything else.

“No,” Murphy said, sounding like her usual exasperated self. “Get your coat. I want you to check her out while I finish taking her statement.”

“Right,” Dresden said jumping up from his chair. “That’s a good idea.”

“I don’t even…” Murphy trailed off with a shake of her head. “And you do owe me that beer.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dresden replied, and the look Murphy gave him as they walked down the hall reminded him entirely too much of Umbridge for his liking.


End file.
